


McCree/Soldier:76; reader notices her things are missing

by yandere_mccree



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 18:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16938468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yandere_mccree/pseuds/yandere_mccree





	McCree/Soldier:76; reader notices her things are missing

McCree:  
Ever since you were recruited into Blackwatch, you kept your journal close to you. Not only because it hold special memories from home, but you were excited to fill the pages with more experiences.   
You kept it in the same place in your room, snug on a bookshelf with some other notebooks and decorations. But today, that spot was bare, light dust framing the position it once was in.   
“No, no, no…” you whisper as you explore the small clutter in your room, “where is it? It has to be here…”  
Maybe you left it at the shooting range? No, that doesn’t make sense, you clearly remember leaving with it. And it couldn’t be in the DEFAC considering you never placed it around food or drinks…  
You reach for your phone and text everyone you can. Your journal was the only thing connecting you to home, not to mention how much intimate information lies in the pages. It was basically your thoughts on paper, so it became a priority to you to get it back.   
But none of your friends came to the rescue. In your frustration, you stormed out of your room, slamming your door on the way out.  
“Easy, darlin’,” a familiar southern drawl captured your ears and you turned to face McCree, “what’s got you so hot headed?”  
You left out a huff and begin to explain, “I can’t find my journal anywhere, and-and, I don’t know exactly what happened but someone had to have stolen it! I know that I left it on my bookshelf! Someone was in my room, Jesse, my journal’s gone!”   
McCree gave you a playful pout, folding his arms, “Ain’t ya just the sweetest thing,” he lifted an arm, revealing your notebook in his gloved hand, “you shouldn’t be so careless, doll.”  
You jump to retrieve your journal from the height of his hand, giddily embracing it, “Where did you find it?”  
“You know the shooting range is my second home, and you carry that ol’ thing around like a third limb. I was surprised to see it without you, I almost didn’t recognize it,” he pulled you close to him as his tone changed, “but if you think anyone’s tryin’ to hurt you, you just let me know and I’ll take care of it.” He gave you a wink as he pulled away, moving his hand away from his peacekeeper, which you didn’t even notice he was holding onto.   
“You’re too kind Jesse, thank you.”  
He gives you a smile and tips his hat before sauntering off. You were excited to jump onto your bed and rediscover the confines of your journal until you realized something…strange. Some pages were torn out, most those involving romantic entanglements or crushes. Even poems that weren’t necessarily connected to anyone in particular, torn from the spine. That uneasy feeling that someone had been in your room never left you.

Soldier: 76:  
Everything in your house was deliberately organized. You’ve always been a bit of neat freak, truth be told. So when you noticed that your dresser drawers weren’t entirely closed, your previously made bed had been disturbed, and the neat pile of books on your desk turned into clutter, you were more than alarmed.   
At first, the thought of an intruder never slipped your mind. You were more concerned about rectifying the mess before anything. But when you noticed some of your underwear had gone missing, a feeling in your gut began to turn your stomach.   
“Someone’s been here…” you said under your breath, “my things are missing…”  
Your instincts took a hold of you and you began to take cautious footsteps as you left the comfort of your room. The silence in your house was unusually deafening, causing that feeling in your gut to grow heavier. Reaching for a candlestick from your coffee table, you paused to hear any signs of life within your house.   
Nothing. The silence was still but unconvincing. The feeling of eyes on you was beginning to send chills down your spine. Your breath began to hitch as you slowly approached your coat closet, tightly gripping onto the candlestick.   
Quickly, you throw the door open, wiping aside the few coats inside. You let out a breath when you see nothing but the vacuum cleaner in the corner, “I must be going crazy, huh?”  
“That makes two of us,” a large, strong hand silenced your screams as it pulled you into the man possessing it, “Hey, sweetheart.”  
Your eyes welled with tears, the image of the broad shouldered, masked man blurred by them. You tried to speak, but your voice was muffled by his hand. You tried to run, but your body was useless against his strength.   
“Don’t worry,” his gravely voice was so dark and harsh, making his words that much more brutal, “You’re mine now.”


End file.
